It was more than an hour after he observed her arrival at the Naval Ball before Owen had the privilege of a greeting from Mlle. de Longeon, and then it was only a smile as she pa.s.sed him on the arm of a distinguished looking foreign diplomat.

Owen saw that she spoke a quiet word to her escort, who turned and looked at Owen. She beamed brightly at Owen, who smiled back at her, and moved slowly toward the door of the conservatory into which she and the diplomat had disappeared. He was surprised, a moment later, to see Pauline rush by him, with a little laugh.

"Is anything the matter?" Owen called.

"Nothing you can help. Stay right where you are," she cried.

Owen laughed his understanding and moved over to where Harry and Lucille were talking with Ensign Summers.

Meanwhile, Pauline, in the darkest recess of the conservatory was pinning together a broken garter. As she started back to the ballroom she was surprised to hear voices near her.

There was something about their foreign accent that roused the ever-venturous, ever-curious interest of Pauline. She crept along a row of palms and peered through an aperture. Mlle. de Longeon and the diplomat were talking together as they paced the aisle of palms on the other side. Pauline crept nearer.

Presently the voice of the diplomat became distinguishable.

"It is all arranged. The thing is to be done in Submarine B-2 tomorrow. All you have now to do is--"

Pauline could not catch the final words.

The two moved back to the ballroom. She followed close behind, a little suspicious, but with the thrill of a new plan gripping her.

She saw Ensign Summers step forward early to greet Mile. de Longeon.

Another dance was beginning.

"This one is Mr. Owen's," said Mile. de Longeon, as she moved away on the arm of the secretary.

"Have you anything to tell me?" he asked.

"Yes. Induce her to make Summers take her down in his submarine tomorrow, and she will never trouble you again."

As the dance ended, Pauline and Harry, Summers and Lucille, joined them.

"Mr. Summers, I have a great request to make," declared Pauline.

"I grant it before you breathe a word," he answered.

"I want you to take me along on your submarine trip tomorrow."

"Polly, have you gone crazy all over again?" cried Harry.

"I don't believe it would be--" began Summers.

"It must be," she commanded.

"Well, I promised too soon, but I'll keep my word."

Owen and Mile. de Longeon had stepped aside.

"What does it mean?" gasped the secretary. "She is doing the very thing we want her to do."

"Sometimes Fate aids the worthy," said Mile. de Longeon softly.

CHAPTER XXII

SUBMARINE B-2

At the dock of the navy yard a submarine lay ready for departure.

There was nothing about its appearance to indicate that its mission was of more than ordinary importance. But it was an unusual thing to see a woman aboard, and the curiosity of the crew was matched by that of the young officers who had come down to see Summers off on his voyage of many chances.

The officers got little reward for their considerate interest. Ensign Summers was engaged. He was explaining to Pauline, as they stood on the deck of the war-craft, the entire history of submarines from the time of Caesar, or Washington, or somebody to the present day, and Pauline was listening with that childlike simplicity which women use for the purpose of making men look foolish.

"By Jove! I thought he was tied, heart and hope, to the lovely foreigner," exclaimed one of the sh.o.r.eward observers.

"So he is," said another. "But Mlle. de Longeon isn't interested in his daily toil. Do you know who the young lady up there is?"

"No. She must have got a dispensation from the secretary himself to go on this trip."

"So she did--easy as snapping your thumb. She's Miss Pauline Marvin, daughter of the richest man that has died in twenty years."

The boat gong sounded the signal of departure.

Summers, with a hasty apology, left Pauline and stepped forward. The engines began to rumble. The deadly and delicate craft--masterpiece of modern naval achievement--drew slowly from the pier.

There was a shout.

Summers, delivering rapid orders on deck, turned with an expression of annoyance to see his faithful man servant, Catin, out of breath and excited, rushing toward the boat.

Summers ordered the vessel stopped. It had moved not more than stepping distance from the pier and in a moment Catin was beside his master on the deck.

"She told me it must--" he paused, gasping for breath.

"Who told you what?" demanded Summers.

"Mlle. de Longeon. I am sure it is a message of importance. She told me I must give it to you before you risked your life on the voyage."

"Mlle. de Longeon!" He caught the letter from Catin's hand.

"My Hero--I cannot keep the secret any longer, cannot wait to tell you that it is you I love. Estelle de Longeon."

Summers walked slowly, dizzily up the deck was in an ecstasy. He was oblivious to all the world--even to Pauline, who stood questioning an officer at the rail. The fact that his servant, Catin, slipped silently down the hatchway to the main compartment, and thence on to the pump room at the vessel's bottom, would hardly have interested him ---even if he had known it.

"Shall we put off, sir?"

The second officer saluted.